


The Madman and Marvin Gaye

by allofuswithwings



Series: Kept [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master is acting strangely aboard the Tardis, more than usual, and the Doctor is surprised to find out why that is.  A role-reversal where, for once, the Doctor is not the Master’s bitch.</p>
<p>Canon divergence, where the Master wasn't shot and instead has been kept by the Doctor aboard the Tardis as a prisoner.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>
  <i>He reached up to take the Master’s chin in his fingers, having a good look at his eyes.  The Doctor’s eyebrows arched and he stepped back a little.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Are you high?” he asked, astounded.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The guilty smile that crept onto the Master’s face confirmed the Doctor’s suspicions, and a million questions filled his head all at once.  He had no clue why the Master would want to get high while on board the Tardis, let alone how he managed to do it in the first place.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Madman and Marvin Gaye

~*~

The Doctor jumped as, all of a sudden, loud music began blaring out of the Tardis speakers, as he sat in the flight seat in the control room. He winced and frowned to himself, still fiddling with some star maps on the display screen, knowing that this noise was the Master’s doing. 

He recognised the music as something twentieth or twenty first century, being quite familiar with that time period due to his companions. It was soul or RnB style, and probably something a little bit older than what Rose had listened to. 

The Master burst into the room suddenly, sliding across the floor from a nearby hallway, arms splayed out. He proceeded to dance his way across the room, skimming up against railings, his eyes on the Doctor. 

“Baaaaaby, I’m hot just like an oven, I need some lovin’,” the Master sang, a wide grin across his face. “And… baaaby, I can’t hold it much longer, it’s getting stronger and stronger.” 

The Doctor turned his head to stare at him, boggled by his sudden upbeat mood, and slightly disturbed by his need to sing to him. The Master continued to approach him, his eyes never leaving the Doctor’s, and his body swaying sensually to the music. 

“And when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing,” the Master crooned. “Sexual…healing… oh baby.” 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at this, trying to maintain a steely, irritated expression, but found he was smiling despite himself. He was glad the Master wasn’t in so much of a sulk as he had been recently. It was because he’d been going a little stir-crazy; the Doctor didn’t blame him. As big as the Tardis was, he was still imprisoned in it, and one sometimes had the need to be in a large, open space of some kind. 

So, the Master was obviously feeling not quite so bad about being cooped up, but this sort of behaviour wasn’t exactly what the Doctor had in mind. He hadn’t danced around and sang like this since their time together on the Valiant, and that was only because he was gloating about destroying the Earth and plotting galactic domination. Maybe he was plotting something now that the Doctor didn’t know about; it wouldn’t surprise him. 

The Master reached the Doctor’s position and continued to dance, this time in front of him, pushing him away from the readout screen and back into the flight seat. The Doctor swatted him away, trying to get access to the star maps again, but the Master persisted, gently easing him back and still swaying from side to side. 

The Doctor sighed in exasperation, and the Master grinned again, reaching a hand out to tip the Doctor’s chin up toward him so he could look him in the eye. 

“Sexual healing is something that’s good for me,” the Master sang, his eyes fiery. 

The Doctor couldn’t help the grin that spread across face at the Master’s amusing behaviour, but still raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively. 

“Is that a subtle hint?” he asked dryly. 

The Master took hold of his hands, still smiling, and pulled the Doctor out of the flight seat to join his movements on the control room floor. He placed the Doctor’s hand at his shoulder, holding it with his own, and then laced his fingers through his other hand, nudging him to sway to the music. 

“Dance with me,” the Master said. 

The Doctor rolled his eyes, trying to extricate himself from the gentle grip, shaking his head. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better but I’m busy,” he replied. “Another time, maybe.” 

The Master took firmer hold of him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing his body against the Doctor’s to get him to move with him. 

“Just one dance,” he persisted. “That’s all I want.” 

The pleading in his eyes and the fervour in his tone caused the Doctor to sigh in defeat, relenting in his attempt to escape the Master’s embrace. Instead, he leant into it, rearranging the position of his arm to rest more comfortably on the Master’s shoulder and began to sway his body in time. The Master grinned in response, and the Doctor rolled his eyes, but still smiled back. 

A few moments of comfortable silence went by, the two of them just moving gently in each other’s arms to the music, the Master holding the Doctor in an intense gaze. 

“What’s with the music?” the Doctor inquired, breaking the silence. “It’s a bit…cheesy.” 

The Master scoffed in response, frowning at him and shaking his head. 

“It’s Marvin Gaye; classic soul music,” he chided. “You should know that better than me. You’ve spent more time on Earth with those humans than I have.” 

The Doctor shrugged, looking sheepish. 

“Mmmm, not really been that interested in their popular contemporary music to be honest,” he admitted. “After the 1950’s it all got a bit rubbishy for me. I kind of tuned it out when I was there.” 

The Master tutted at his ignorance but then broke into a grin again. 

“I suppose I can forgive you, since you are so very handsome,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling. 

The Doctor looked at him carefully; something about all this just didn’t sit right. He was being friendly and affectionate, and despite their unexpected, brief, sexual encounter a few days earlier, the Master was still the same person. He was still cruel and bloodthirsty, and only did things for his own benefit. He didn’t dance romantically and give compliments freely unless there was something he was getting in return. 

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, pulling back a little from the Master’s embrace. 

“What’s all this about then?” he asked suspiciously. “Why are you being nice?” 

The Master frowned at him, a wounded look in his eyes. His arm dropped from around his waist and he untangled his fingers from the Doctor’s. 

“Do I have to have a reason?” he asked, offended. “Can’t I just have a slow dance with my Doctor?” 

The Doctor stared at him, puzzled, and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand in confusion. Since when was he _his_ Doctor? 

“No, not when it’s _you_ ,” he replied. “Are you feeling alright?” 

The Master shrugged, suddenly fidgety, and leant back against one of the railings nearby. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and shone it over him, staring at him intently as he inspected him for illness. The Master’s eyes darted to the floor, and a sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

The Doctor noticed this, and looked at him quizzically. He reached up to take the Master’s chin in his fingers, having a good look at his eyes. The Doctor’s eyebrows arched and he stepped back a little. 

“Are you _high_?” he asked, astounded. 

The guilty smile that crept onto the Master’s face confirmed the Doctor’s suspicions, and a million questions filled his head all at once. He had no clue why the Master would want to get high while on board the Tardis, let alone how he managed to do it in the first place. 

The Master stepped forward, closing the gap between himself and the Doctor, and wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist. The Doctor looked down at the physical contact, then back up at the Master’s face, bewildered. 

“You look surprised,” the Master observed. “I did tell you I was bored. I just found something to do.” 

The Master’s hands slid away from the Doctor’s waist and up around to the front of his body, slowly over his chest and onto his shoulders. He looked up at the Doctor with heavy eyes, inching himself closer and studying the expressions playing out on his face. He grinned, amused at the effect he was having, which seemed to be a mixture of surprise, disgust and curiosity. 

His hands continued to rove, tracing out the shapes of the Doctor’s shoulders and along his collar bone over the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his tie, which the Master was glad of; he liked the fact that the Doctor now felt comfortable enough around him not to bother with formalities so much. Yet he still did love to wear those pinstripe pants, glasses and button-up shirt, but that was fine too. The Master found he had a weakness for the slightly nerdy look. 

The proximity of their bodies made the Master’s skin hum, and almost instinctively, he embraced the Doctor again, one arm around his waist and the other wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He pressed his forehead against the Doctor’s, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. All the chemicals running through his head and body made any physical touch feel so wonderful, and he shivered at the sensation of the Doctor’s bare skin under his fingers as he caressed his neck and throat. 

When the Master opened his eyes he found the Doctor still staring at him dumbfounded, and he held his gaze, his own breathing loud in his ears. The Doctor looked as though he wanted to say something, but nothing came out, he just stood there with his mouth open a little. The Master smiled, his pupils dilating even more. 

His hand wandered up the back of the Doctor’s neck, fingers entangling in his hair, and he moved his head slightly to one side press his cheek against the Doctor’s. He inhaled deeply the scent of the Doctor’s skin and hair, his hand massaging, and then exhaled heavily into his ear. His lips grazed his earlobe, and he was rewarded with a noticeable shiver from the Doctor at the sensations. 

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” the Doctor said in a shaky voice. 

He pulled back a little from the Master, looking him in the eyes. The Master raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. 

“Is that a threat, Doctor?” he asked amusedly. “Are you going to punish me?” 

The Doctor shook his head, furrowing his brow at the innuendo, and smiled wryly. 

“No, I mean, when you’re back to normal, you’re going to hate yourself for being so nice to me,” he explained. “And so… touchy-feely.” 

The Master shrugged, his hand still messed in the Doctor’s hair, fingers playing with the shorter tresses at the base of his neck. As he pushed his fingers up to rake through further up through the back of his head, the Doctor let out a sigh, his eyelids fluttering. The Master grinned, elated by the pleasured response he was able to extract. 

“I don’t care about tomorrow, it feels good now,” he murmured, bringing his face closer again. “And you don’t seem to be complaining either.” 

He grazed his lips against the Doctor’s, exchanging hot breaths into his open mouth, and closing his eyes. Every part of his body that touched the Doctor’s felt warm, awakened by the physical contact, and he felt his body buzzing with an electrical hum. Cascades of pleasure chemicals burst in his brain, and he was unable to stifle the soft whimper that fell from his lips as he was overwhelmed by feelings of ecstasy. 

The Doctor’s hands gently took hold of his face, causing his eyelids to fly open again, and he was greeted by a searching, curious gaze. Fingers trailed along the Master’s jawbone, gentle and feather-light, and he swallowed, slightly surprised by the Doctor’s reciprocation of affection. He exhaled shakily again as the Doctor’s fingers traced under his jaw and down his throat, igniting his skin with hot tingles. 

The Doctor’s hands roved down and over his shoulders to begin gentle exploration of the back of his neck and spine, dipping under the fabric of his shirt to move across bare skin. The Master nuzzled his face sideways again to rest his cheek against the Doctor’s, desperate to stay as close to him as possible and listen to his breathing. It was heavy and warm, just like his own, and the Master tilted his head to brush his lips against the skin just below the Doctor’s ear. 

The Doctor ran a hand up into the Master’s hair and brought his lips to his ear, mirroring him, and began a slow, tender massage of the back of the Master’s head. His fingers tangled in the Master’s hair, raking back and forth over his scalp, as his other hand continued it’s work on his shoulders, exploring his wiry but broad frame. The Master let out a groan as his senses became overwhelmed; everything smelled, sounded and felt so good he felt like he might die from it. 

“You like this?” the Doctor asked, his voice soft and warm. 

The Master’s eyes were closed and a smile spread across his face. 

“Oh yes, Doctor,” he replied, breathlessly. “Don’t stop.” 

His eyebrows arched a little as he felt the Doctor’s lips on the skin of his neck, barely touching him, but leaving a trail of butterfly kisses from his earlobe to his collarbone. It sent shockwaves of pleasure out from his neck to encompass his body, making the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. The Master felt weak at the knees, all these sensations making his mind reel and his body cry out in bliss. 

The Doctor pulled back a little, his hands departing from the Master’s head and shoulders and came to rest at the front, beginning to unbutton his shirt with slow, deliberate fingers. His eyes darted down and back up, watching his own work and also observing the Master’s reaction to his motions. But the Master said nothing, just watched, his breath coming in deep and heavy now. Button by button, his shirt began to fall open, his chest rising and falling faster with every successive detachment. 

Once it was completely undone, the Doctor reached forward, pressing his palm against the warm surface of the Master’s skin, and ran his hand slowly down and across his chest. The Master’s body shuddered at this and he arched forward achingly toward the Doctor’s sensual touch. He let out a murmur of enjoyment and brought their faces close together again, positioning his own open mouth against the Doctor’s without touching. The Master exhaled heavily, his warm breath panting out into the Doctor’s open mouth, his eyelids heavy and his gaze dragging up to meet the Doctor’s. 

“Seems you know my weakness,” the Master whispered, his lips just barely brushing the Doctor’s. “I always did like the tease. Wanting what I couldn’t have.” 

The Doctor smiled, opening his mouth a little more to slide his tongue out and over the inside of the Master’s bottom lip, ever so slightly. The Master whimpered in response, his eyes rolling back and then sucked in a sharp breath through his mouth. 

“You can have it this time,” the Doctor replied, his eyes fixed on the Master’s lips. “If you want it.” 

The Master smiled, mouth still open, his own eyes also unable to look away from the Doctor’s moist, inviting lips. 

“Oh, I definitely want it,” he murmured. 

The Doctor leaned in, sealing the Master’s mouth with his own, his lips gentle and soft. He slid his tongue out, meeting that of the Master’s, and began a slow, sensual dance as they intertwined and explored each other’s mouths. A noise of pleasure emerged from the back of the Master’s throat at the sensation of being kissed so tenderly and intensely, the Doctor’s hands wandering across his chest still. 

The Doctor was surprised at his own enjoyment of their intimacy, as he wasn’t really sure why he had responded to all of this in the first place. He didn’t know why he was kissing the Master this way, he just _needed_ to, and ached to touch him all over to bring him pleasure. Perhaps it was the vulnerability the Master was displaying by begging to be touched, not demanding it, that the Doctor identified with, or maybe it was just the simple desire to be physical with him again. He didn’t know which, and right now, he didn’t really care. 

The Master was submitting to the Doctor’s every advance, which was a new situation for both of them, and this just encouraged the Doctor even more. His hands slipped under the fabric of the Master’s open shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and sliding it down his arms to discard it completely. He then reached up to take the Master’s face in his hands, holding it while he kissed him, revelling in the novel feel and taste of his hot, wet mouth. His tongue explored, slowly and curiously, wrapping around the Master’s tongue and tracing the shapes of his gums and teeth. He pulled back a little to capture the Master’s bottom lip between his own, sucking and sliding his tongue along it gently, eliciting another moan from the Master as he did so. 

The Doctor pulled away slowly, breathing heavily and staring at the Master intently with dark, fiery eyes. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said in a low tone. “I think we should go to my room.” 

The Master smiled in response, looking at the Doctor through his lashes, and held out his hand for him to take. 

“I like the sound of that,” he said softly. 

The Doctor slipped his hand into the Master’s and led him out of the control room, down a corridor to the door of his room. The Master grinned a little as the Doctor flicked a glance back and opened it. 

“You’ve never let me in here before,” the Master murmured, looking around. 

The Doctor didn’t reply, just led him over to the bed, easing him back onto it gently and began running his hands over his bare chest again. The Master took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of the Doctor’s strong, warm hands on his skin, exploring the shapes of his muscles and ribs. As they dipped lower, tracing around his bellybutton and following the trail of hair down his navel, the Master sucked in a sharp breath, his hearts beginning to race. 

He opened his eyes to see the Doctor smiling at him, manoeuvring himself to straddle the Master’s legs, his hands never leaving his skin. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and the Master returned the smile. 

“You wind me up so tight, I’m just about ready to go,” the Master admitted, his voice breathy. “I don’t know how long I can last.” 

The Doctor unbuttoned his shirt and then leaned down over him, his hands propping himself up either side of the Master’s head. His eyes flashed and he smiled again, bringing his mouth close to the Master’s lips. 

“Don’t worry. I plan on taking my time with you,” he growled. “I’ll draw out every last bit of pleasure until you beg me for release.” 

The Master’s body arched up at him in anticipation, and he let out a shaky breath, his hands reaching up to run over the now bare skin of the Doctor’s chest. His eyes roved the wiry frame that leant over him, observing how similar it was to his own currently. He had found that an odd coincidence when he had first regenerated; how much the same they were this time around in appearance and attitude. Both young, fit and lean, both handsome in an unconventional sense, and both matched in their eccentric genius. The Master found it somewhat comforting. 

All thoughts now vacated his head as the Doctor leaned back to sitting position, his hands returning to their exploration of his lower abdomen and achingly close to the hard excitement growing in his trousers. His chest heaved as the Doctor touched him, fingertips tracing Galifreyan shapes around his belly button and navel, and then flat-palmed over his trousers and down his thighs. The Master’s face contorted into shapes of pleasure and agony, desperate for more satisfaction but revelling in the torment of being teased this way. 

The Master grunted as the Doctor’s hands pushed their way up his inner thighs, fingers exploring so close but only grazing the area he really wanted him to touch. He let out a shaky breath as the Doctor’s hands moved up over his thighs and encircled his contained erection, coming back up to play gently at the waist of his trousers. His fingers dipped down inside the waistband, caressing the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen before sliding back out again. 

The Doctor brought his hands to rest at the button of the Master’s trousers, his eyes creeping slowly up his body to meet the Master’s in a heavy, self-satisfied gaze, grinning. The Master smiled back at him, staring down over the rapid rise and fall of his chest, giddy with excitement. His body was on fire, yearning for firmer touch but enjoying the way every one of his senses was wide awake from the way he was denied fulfilment. His erection twitched involuntarily at the proximity of the Doctor’s hands, and the Doctor grinned wider, winking at him. 

The race of his hearts matched the drumming in his head as the Doctor began to unbutton his trousers, unzipping the fly and tugging down from the waistband. The Master wriggled out of them hurriedly, helping him along to get undressed as quickly as possible. The Doctor discarded his trousers to the side, and then threw off his own shirt, allowing the Master to see him fully topless. The Master swallowed hard, his eyes roving and his hands grasping out longingly. 

But the Doctor did not move closer, instead shifted his body further down and hands returning to their feather-light touch of his inner thighs. The Master whimpered, pressing his head back into the bed and closing his eyes. The Doctor’s fingers were so gentle but so bold, tracing the lines of his boxer-briefs and occasionally pushing under the fabric to stroke the sensitive skin near his erection. He let out a groan as the Doctor finally ran his fingers delicately over the fabric covering his hard excitement, his hips bucking up for more fulfilment. He was rewarded with flat palms cupping and stroking him, causing his body to shudder, and he could feel himself beginning to sweat. 

The Master let out a sigh as the Doctor gripped the top of his boxer-briefs and pulled them down, finally setting his excitement free in the cool air of the Tardis, and he kicked them off with the Doctor’s help. He swallowed, his eyes meeting the Doctor’s as he lay naked before him, and he felt his cheeks beginning to burn as the Doctor stared at him. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, smiling. 

“Are you turning shy on me?” he asked, evidently surprised. 

The Master cast his eyes away, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, and frowned, slightly irritated. He never felt like this normally, he was confident about himself and his body, but right now all sorts of silly thoughts filled his head as the Doctor surveyed his nude form. He wondered if the Doctor liked it, if it was what he expected, if he wanted it, and if it was big enough. It was stupid, and so… _human_ , it was disgusting and made him feel ashamed. The damn drugs must be making him feel this way. He hated it. 

“Just forget it, this was a bad idea,” the Master mumbled angrily, sitting up and moving to reach for his clothes at the side of the bed. 

The Doctor grabbed him by the arm, pulling his body to him, and cupping his cheek with his other hand. He stared into the Master’s eyes, smiling warmly at him. 

“I like it,” the Doctor said, and the Master knew instantly what he was talking about. “And I think you’re gorgeous.” 

The Master felt his cheeks flush again at the compliment, and he grinned, regaining some of his confidence. 

“I told you I was sexy this time around,” he said cheekily. 

The Doctor chuckled, and then eased him back down onto the bed, this time resting his body alongside to bring his face close to the Master’s. He lay on his side, one leg hooked over, and his head propped up with one hand. His other hand wandered back down to the Master’s thigh, stroking in and up, just barely brushing his fingertips around the base of his erection. The Master exhaled shakily, his eyelids fluttering shut and his hands grasping at the fabric of the bedsheets in frustration. 

He thought his hearts were going to pound right out of his chest when the Doctor began to trail his fingers over his sack and up his erection. He couldn’t help the tormented moan that escaped his lips as his body throbbed with hormones and other chemicals, so desperate for relief. But the Master didn’t dare stop him or force him to go faster; he relished the feeling of being tortured this way, and he knew when he finally did reach the end, it would certainly have been worth it. 

He opened his eyes to find the Doctor studying his face intently, who then broke into a mischievous smile when their eyes met. The Master returned with a shaky smile, his mouth open, and then gasping for air as the Doctor’s fingers played around the head. His body squirmed and hips bucked at the sensation, his eyes still fixed on the Doctor’s, filled with both gratitude and pleading. It was almost too much for him; the drugs he had taken earlier heightening the pleasure he experienced, and making his head swim with desire. 

“You’re…loving this…aren’t you…?” the Master managed to gasp out. 

The Doctor grinned in response and then sealed his mouth with a deep, affectionate kiss. The Master’s kisses were desperate and hard in return, begging for more than just tender kisses and gentle touch. 

“Of course,” the Doctor replied when they broke apart. 

His eyes then grew dark, still smiling, and his hand discarded it’s feathery touch to grab hold of the Master firmly. His strokes were still slow, but now hard and unyielding, causing the Master to moan and squeeze his eyes shut in ecstasy, his body arching toward the Doctor’s hand. He felt the coil in his belly squeezing tighter and tighter with every pull and push motion, and his hand reached out, grasping at the Doctor’s shoulder. His managed to open his eyes, staring into those of the Doctor’s, the smile gone from his face and expression now one of raw desire. 

“Doctor…” he whispered. 

The Master’s body was tensed, curled toward the Doctor’s body and hand now, and his hips moving back and forward with every stroke the Doctor made. He closed his eyes again, groaning, as the Doctor increased his pace, and he felt his control slipping away. The tension pooled between his legs was pulled so tight, and he felt those first fragments of the impending explosion filtering through, causing him to let out a series of whimpered moans, his body shaking. 

It was at this point the Doctor stopped, letting go of him completely. The Master choked in disbelief, his eyelids flying open, staring with wide eyes at him. The Doctor was grinning wickedly, and the Master couldn’t help but smile a little, breathing hard. 

“You bastard,” he panted, eyes twinkling. 

The Doctor continued to grin at him, his eyes full of hunger and triumph, thrilled to be the one in control for once. It was up to him when the Master felt pleasure or agony, fulfilment or teasing, orgasm or frustration. And somewhere, in the depths of the Master’s eyes, he saw real gratitude and joy, not just from the effects of the drugs he had taken. Somewhere in there he really did want this. 

“But you like it,” the Doctor replied, finally. 

The Doctor’s hand began tracing patterns on his chest and throat again, and the Master’s eyelids fluttered, still breathing hard. The Master smiled slightly, meeting his gaze again, as he felt the Doctor pressed hard against his thigh as he continued to play. The Doctor smiled back, pleased the Master could acknowledge his own enjoyment in this activity, and not just for pure control. Not wanting to leave the Master hanging much longer, the Doctor sat up and climbed his way down his body, pushing apart the Master’s thighs so he could sit between them. When he looked back up, the Master’s smile was gone, realising exactly why the Doctor had manoeuvred himself this way. 

The Doctor continued to stare up at him for a moment, his expression serious and eyes dark. The Master swallowed, hearing only the pounding of his hearts and gasps of his own breath in his ears. It felt like slow motion as the Doctor tore his gaze away and looked down, his head then dipping downwards with mouth open. The Master inhaled sharply, his eyelids clamping shut, as he felt the Doctor’s soft, wet mouth envelope his erection. He barely noticed the string of noises that escaped him as the Doctor began to slide him in and out of his mouth, his tongue curling it’s way over the head and hand at the base guiding him. 

The Master’s hips bucked instinctively, and he was rewarded with the Doctor taking him even deeper into his mouth, causing his head to spin. He couldn’t feel anything except the slow, moist pressure of the Doctor’s mouth and lips on him, and the way his tongue snaked back and forth to escalate the Master’s pleasure. He was breathing so hard now, probably the cause of his head spinning, and all his muscles pulled so tight that he wondered how much this was going to hurt tomorrow. But he knew it would be worth it. 

The Master felt himself coming undone and became aware that he was making soft groaning, whimpering noises with every up and down movement of the Doctor’s head. He had lost all ability for coherent thought, and his body now began to shudder and spasm as he approached that knife edge. He opened his eyes and looked down to see the Doctor taking his erection in and out of his mouth, the image causing another surge of chemicals to flood his body and he grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

Just as he felt the coil inside his belly beginning to break, and the torrent of pleasure starting to burst through, the Doctor stopped his motions and took his mouth off him. The Master choked out several wretched whimpers in agony, his body crying out in disappointment. He opened his eyes and stared at the Doctor with a wild expression, his body shaking. This wasn’t funny anymore. The Doctor wasn’t smiling this time either. 

“Beg me,” the Doctor murmured. 

The Master sighed in desperation, his mouth sagging open and his eyes pleading. 

“Please…” he whispered. 

“Use my name,” the Doctor instructed. 

“Please, Doctor…” the Master begged. “Please…” 

The Doctor smiled at him. Then, with eyes still on the Master, he opened his mouth and took his erection in, sliding his lips down the shaft, murmuring in pleasure. The Master cried out again, clawing at the bedsheets as the Doctor began his work on him again, quicker and with more fervour now. The strokes were rapid and wet, but still with the right amount of pressure to bring the Master hurtling back to the brink, his pelvis tensing in anticipation. This time, the Doctor didn’t stop as the Master began shudder and gasp, but instead took him deeper, hungry for his flesh. 

The Master quickly slipped over that knife-edge, falling heavily into a cascade of ecstasy, calling the Doctor’s name as he orgasmed, his body writhing under the sensations. He shivered at the way the Doctor pulled on his hips to draw him deeper and eating him up, as the waves of pleasure throbbed through his body. His skin hummed and felt a buzzing in his head, and wondered if these fantastic feelings would ever stop. 

Soon his body grew limp, shuddering and spasming from the satisfaction, and the Doctor took his mouth off him, sitting up. The Doctor watched for a moment, studying the flushed, vulnerable form of the Master with closed eyes and mouth sagging open a little, gasping for breath. He seemed so slight and fragile, yet the Doctor knew the horror the man inside could inflict on him and the rest of the universe. But for now, at least, he was an exhausted lover, gratified by the Doctor’s own actions. 

When the Master opened his eyes with heavy lids, his gaze met the Doctor’s and he gave him a sloppy smile. He didn’t say anything, just continued grinning like a fool, stretching a little and shifting. The Doctor climbed over and lay down beside him, head propped up with one arm, still studying his face. He reached over instinctively and began stroking the hair at one side of the Master’s face tenderly. The Master smiled a little more, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m beginning to think you’re in love with me, Doctor,” the Master said, gently teasing. 

The Doctor flushed, pulling his hand away, and then rolled his eyes at the Master’s suggestion. 

“I was just trying to be nice, but never mind,” the Doctor replied, smiling wryly at him. 

The Master reached up, running his fingers over the Doctor’s cheek, causing his smile to drop and eyebrow to arch up a little. The Master trailed his fingertips down the Doctor’s jawline and then softly traced the shape of the Doctor’s lips. 

“Such a fantastic mouth,” the Master murmured. 

The Doctor grinned, his eyes twinkling, and the Master matched his giddy expression. Then his smile faded and he stared at the Doctor seriously. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

A little stunned by the gratitude, the Doctor shifted back and sat up. He reached down off the bed to grab his shirt and slipped it on, beginning to button it. The Master slowly grasped at his boxer-briefs and pulled them on sluggishly, watching lazily as the Doctor dressed himself. 

“You look like you need some rest, so feel free to take a nap in here,” the Doctor said, as he finished buttoning his shirt. “I’ll be out in the control room if you need me.” 

The Master nodded absently, his eyelids heavy, and he yawned. He rolled over, closing his eyes, lying halfway between foetal position and on his stomach. The Doctor turned down the lights and ran a hand through his hair, heading for the door. He smiled to himself as he heard a soft snore, and then stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him. 

~*~ 

The Doctor heard the noise of the Master shouting from down the hall before he heard the actual words being spoken. There was more yelling, followed by the slamming of doors, and loud footsteps coming down the corridor toward the control room. Then the Master appeared in the doorway, dishevelled and livid, his eyes fixed on the Doctor. 

It had been several hours since the Doctor had left him sleeping in his room, and by the sounds of it, the effects of whatever drug he had taken had worn off. And he wasn’t happy about what had transpired when he had been under the influence. 

“You!!” the Master shouted, pointing his finger at him. “You fucker!!” 

The Doctor pretended to continue working on his star maps, trying to hide the smile on his lips. The Master stormed across the room to where the Doctor was standing, his nostrils flaring and his hands balled up into fists. 

“You bloody, bollocking, disgusting motherfucker!” the Master snarled. “How _dare_ you….!” 

The Doctor turned his head to face him, an amused grin on his lips. He raised an eyebrow at the Master. 

“How dare I what?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and giving the Master a pointed look. 

The Master glared at him, screwing up his nose and mouth into a sneer. The Doctor wondered if any second now, steam would start pouring out his ears. 

“You…you…” the Master attempted, his voice still angry. “You know what!” 

The Doctor sat back in his seat smugly, grinning a toothy grin and swinging his legs from side to side. This seemed to aggravate the Master even more, and he grunted in irritation. 

“You violated me when you knew I wasn’t in control of my actions, you disgusting bastard,” the Master snapped. “How dare you do something so filthy without my consent??!” 

The Doctor stood up off his chair, meeting the Master at full height, and drew his face close to his. His eyes stared deeply, challenging the Master’s enraged stature. Neither man flinched at the proximity or intensity of the gaze. 

“I didn’t know anything was wrong at first, and it was _you_ who started seducing _me_ , remember?” the Doctor reminded him. 

The Master sniffed, pushing his chin upwards, still sneering. 

“I didn’t know what I was doing, and you should have stopped me,” he growled. “But you took advantage of me instead. You could get arrested for that.” 

The Doctor smiled a little, knowing he was getting to him by his defensive nature. He dropped his eyes down and then raked them back up over the Master’s form slowly, making it obvious what he was doing to deliberately rile him up. It worked. 

“Don’t look at me that way, you pervert,” the Master snapped. “You’re only allowed to do that when _I_ say so.” 

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” the Doctor taunted. “In fact, you thanked me for it, as I remember.” 

The Master glared at him, breaking their gaze and turning away from the Doctor angrily to pace back and forth. The Doctor smiled again, triumphant in the battle of wills. 

“You’re just angry because you liked it,” he said, turning back to his work on the maps. “You should have said earlier that you liked me sucking your – ” 

“Shut it!!” the Master shouted, cutting him off. “You’re just obsessed with me now, aren’t you? You always want to kiss me, touch me and fuck me, don’t you? Just begging for it!” 

His words were cruel but came out hollow, as the tone of his voice didn’t quite sound convincing. This didn’t go unnoticed by the Doctor, and he strode over to him, grabbing him roughly by the collars of his shirt. He brought his face close to the Master’s again, his lips just past the point of appropriateness and his eyes dark. 

“Begging for it?? I believe that was you, Master,” the Doctor growled. “ _Please Doctor, please_.” 

The Master’s eyes were wider now, obviously surprised by the Doctor’s boldness and mocking of him. 

“You _wanted_ me to kiss you, touch you, play with you. Drug or no drug, you wanted it,” the Doctor murmured. “You _like_ me being in control, with you begging me to make you come.” 

The Master struggled out of his grip, pushing him backwards and glaring at him. 

“Whatever,” he muttered, turning away. 

A smile tugged at one corner of the Doctor’s mouth as the Master stormed across the floor, heading toward the doorway. 

“Next time, just ask me,” the Doctor called as the Master exited the room. 

He chuckled to himself in amusement as he heard a string of Galifreyan expletives echo down the hall. 


End file.
